


Conversation

by followingyourbliss



Category: Garrow's Law
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Historical, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followingyourbliss/pseuds/followingyourbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes off directly from the end of 2x04. Conversation, criminal and otherwise, ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to mswyrr for her truly generous words of encouragement, and for all the hard work beta reading and editing, and the gorgeous cover art!  
> [](http://imgur.com/U06Vq)

“We are not beaten.”

It was not complete vindication, Sarah thought, but it would do.

They sat there for some time in companionable silence, relishing the verdict. At last, deliverance had come from the dread that had settled like a stone in their hearts these past weeks. The room grew colder – light streaming from the high windows had dimmed and moved to the far wall as the sun set outside.

Sarah glanced over at Will's face. A shy smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he stroked her gloved hand with his thumb. Giving his hand a squeeze, she rose from the bench.

“Will you accompany me?” she said.

He stood, beaming at her, and proffered an elbow. Sarah took his arm and they mounted the stairs together, striding towards the courtroom door.

“I do wonder what the readers of the Crimcon Gazette will make of all this,” she said.

Will chuckled. “I can barely contain my anticipation for the next edition.”

“The outcome of the trial will no doubt come as a surprise to those who have been following the case.”

“To none more than myself,” he replied. “As you did witness, this morning I saw as almost certain quite a different conclusion to this business.

“Wherein you were to be dragged off to the Marshalsea, and I was to sell my hair to pay your jailor’s fee?” Sarah said, able to find the whole thing amusing now that it was no longer a genuine possibility. “Yes, you have deprived the masses of their favored ending, and it is a disappointment for which they are not likely to forgive you.”

“We have deprived them,” Will corrected. “At this moment I cannot help but feel most fortunate in my choice of friends, nor am I soon to forget the assistance they provided. You most especially.” He smiled at her warmly, and then shook his head, changing tack. “I believe once the facts are known, the public will find it a most satisfactory conclusion. They might even embrace us as romantic heroes. Star-cross’d lovers triumph against the wealthy and the powerful via last minute interventions, reversals, revelations…”

“…and the skills of a certain courageous young barrister?”

The corners of Will’s lips twitched mischievously. “Yes. Mr. Silvester played his part very well. I shall have to thank him for it.”

They had emerged from the courtroom into the grand Westminster Hall. The vast space, with its cavernous ceilings, elaborate statuary, and hundreds of years of history, would normally draw one's gaze outward in hushed awe. But the pair who walked through the echoing hall past lawyers and lamplighters seemed to only have eyes for each other. No other soul gained their notice.

This altered only when they passed a shadowy alcove, in which stood a life-size statue of a particularly dour looking Plantagenet king.

“Even though the business is concluded, I cannot help feeling that Mr. Farmer is still lurking about,” Sarah said, eyeing the monarch doubtfully.

Will frowned at the wooden statue. “Beyond pecuniary considerations, I begin to suspect, at the end, his heart wasn't altogether in this case.”

“I wasn't aware he had one,” Sarah replied icily.

“He did warn me of your going to France.”

“Indeed! What could have been his purpose?”

“He did not say, only that he felt pity for me. I did not think to press further, which, perhaps given the messenger, should have been my first consideration. I was only too glad to have been in receipt of his intelligence in time.” Will smiled down at her hand in the crook of his arm and gently clasped it with his own.

Sarah sidled up closer to him. “Possibly we do owe him that debt. But I confess I cannot find myself grateful to the architect of so much misery.”

“Neither can I,” he assured her, and added, "Nor am I disappointed the fee he will take for services rendered is so very small."

She laughed.

“You will think I've neglected my mathematics,” Will continued, “but I cannot quite recall, what is ten per cent of a shilling?”

She took only a moment to do the sums. “I believe it comes to one and one fifth of a penny. Which Arthur could round up to a farthing if he were feeling particularly generous towards him,” she said archly, her eyes meeting Will’s. “Though somehow, I doubt that.”

They left Westminster, still arm in arm, both attempting something like propriety, but seemingly unable to banish the grins from their faces.

The Thames had a golden sheen in the evening sun , but Sarah led them away from the river, instead crossing over to the outskirts of St. James's Park. They did not venture within, lest they be set upon by bandits. Given their state of inattention, they would have doubtless made easy prey for those with a villainous purpose. Fortunately, the pair did not encounter any person as they walked, only a white pelican preening itself on the towpath. It wasn't until they were almost upon their destination that William gave a start, glancing from the facade of The Royal Hotel to Sarah and back again.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Evidently, he hadn't had the faintest idea where they were going, but hadn't been expecting this.

Will smiled at her, covering his momentary hesitation with a false airiness. “You wish me to walk you up to your room?”

Sarah frowned. Perhaps he was playing the gentleman. Yes, that was it. He came with no expectations. Or perhaps...

“You think there are still spies in my husband's employ within?”

He cocked his head. “The thought had occurred, yes.”

Sarah pursed her lips, a defiant glint lighting her eyes. “Let them report what they will.”

She squeezed his arm, and noted with some satisfaction that he was looking distinctly flustered.

The gossipmongers of London had gone home early, as William and Sarah were able to pass through the hotel and climb its staircase without being accosted even once, either by words or stares.

As she entered her twilit room, Sarah left Will’s side and busied herself lighting the candles in sconces and by her bedside. He stood at the threshold and searched the gloom with his eyes, as if he expected Farmer or Sir Arthur or even Lord Melville to jump out from the darkness, before gently closing the door behind himself. He clasped his hands together and backed against the wall, watching Sarah with a wide-eyed expression.

The room now semi-illuminated, Sarah moved to the small bedside mirror and tutted at the state of her coiffure before removing her gloves, hatpin and hat.

Regarding William's reflected countenance, Sarah turned and gestured. “I believe there is still some wine on hand.”

Will looked doubtfully at the sideboard and the decanter thereupon. “You would like me to pour you a glass?”

“I thank you, no,” she said smiling, “I mention it only because you look as if you could do with one yourself.”

William sighed as he stared at the wine, gazing into the red depths as if they held some secret knowledge. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then looked up just in time to see Sarah remove the last hairpin and her dark curls falling past her shoulders.

The words died on his lips.

Sarah ran her hands through her hair a few times, frowning at the tangles, and once more glanced up at Will’s reflection in the mirror. Seeing the expression there, her hands stilled and dropped. She turned to face him slowly.

In the dim light his pale blue eyes were luminously wide. There was tension in his face and in his shoulders visible from across the room. He had a frightened, hesitating look about him as he flattened himself against the door.

Sarah closed her eyes, and nodded in embarrassed understanding. “You wish to leave.”

Will did not reply. He merely shook his head vigorously as he crossed the room in one swift motion. Suddenly his arms were about her, his hands buried in her hair as he kissed her fiercely. At first, Sarah was taken aback by how wrongly she had judged his demeanor. But she recovered quickly, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly to his chest, and lifted her clear off the floor, right out of her shoes.

Sarah laughed into his lips, partly in relief, and partly from amusement at William’s sudden indecorous enthusiasm. He laughed too, and set her down, framing her face with his hands and leaning in for a long, tender kiss.

With her in stocking feet and he in his shoes, she was even shorter by contrast. This would not do. It was a struggle to reach him under the best of circumstances. Their necks were now straining from the disparity in their heights, despite Sarah standing on her toes and Will stooping.

Determined to remedy the situation, Sarah broke from their embrace, leaving Will slightly dazed. She pulled on the fabric of his waistcoat until he followed her over to sit on the edge of the bed. Settling himself next to her there, he took her hand and gently stroked it with his thumb just as he had done earlier in court.

“I do not wish to leave,” he said softly, “but my staying will bring consequences.”

Sarah nodded, considering.

“Yes, it is so. We will finally commit the crime for which we have been found guilty, and be much happier for it,” she said. Then, looking at him, she added, “Or am I wrong about that?”

He chuckled nervously. “No, you are not wrong.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it with reverence, then held it between both of his hands, seeming to study it. He shivered.

“Are you cold?” Sarah asked.

“Quite the opposite, I assure you,” Will replied.

“Your hands shake.”

“Yes.”

“You are afraid of me?” She said playfully.

“I am only afraid of disappointing you.”

“Will…” Sarah brought her fingertips to his face to lightly hold his cheek. Before she could ask, he continued, his eyes fixed neutrally on the carpet.

“While I am familiar with the concept and the...general facts and theories surrounding this most...personal of arts, and while I have at times, over the course of my life, endeavored to apply myself in its study, I confess I am lacking in the realm of...the practice and application of said…art.”

She smiled at his tortuous speech, and replied slyly, “What you mean to say, Mr. Garrow, is that you have not had many lovers?”

“What I mean to say,” he said shaking his head in chagrin, “is that I have not had any.”

“Oh,” she said. Then the full extent of his meaning dawned on her. “Oh!” She was unable to think of anything else to add.

“I'm afraid I disappoint you already.”

“No! William, no,” she said emphatically. “I am surprised, that is all. That a man as handsome—” Here she paused, drinking in his features, "—and passionate as you, should be unfamiliar with the passions and pleasures a woman can inspire in a man..."

“Oh, I am familiar,” he assured her.

“You mistake me. I mean only that I cannot believe you haven’t been the object of swoons and sighs of many a pretty young woman,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “or that a good number wouldn't have eagerly shared their beds with you.”

The tips of William's ears turned crimson. “I cannot fathom the ease and thoughtlessness with which some men do take liberties with their personal advantages, as you describe. But I could never have, even had the opportunity presented itself.”

“Just so,” she said soothingly, brushing back his long queue, tidying his silk black ribbon with her fingers. Will smiled and leaned into her touch. “I do not doubt that you would be too noble, too romantic for idle dalliances. But did you never happen to fall in love?” She said, trying to remain light, but true interest preventing the flippancy for which she was aiming.

“No, never before. Nothing so serious. I suppose I have always been occupied with other concerns,” he said, shrugging.

She looked away, so as to not show him how overcome she was by his confession. “You have always been too busy at the Bar and in your study to yield to your heart? Or is it that the law is your one true love?”

Will's eyes came to rest on her as he took both her hands in his. She felt compelled to meet his gaze. “You know that is not true,” he said, low and tender.

Sarah felt something flip in her belly.

It took her some moments before she could give a sensible reply, moments in which Will was content to look upon her in adoration. Finally, she spoke, attempting nonchalance, “I suppose in a way it is a relief.”

“How so?”

“There is an explanation for your earlier behavior. I had begun to suspect you did not want me.”

“Sarah! How could you ever believe…?”

“For these many weeks you did seem perfectly contented with being a paragon of purity. I had begun to believe your self-control was something inhuman! Or perhaps it merely seemed that way in comparison to mine, by which you will no doubt reach very unflattering conclusions about my virtue,” she said ruefully.

Will growled in frustration and attempted to curtail her self-deprecation. “If you had any idea,” he said, his lips skimming along Sarah's jaw, “How desperately I have yearned for this...”

“And yet,” she said, her words punctuated by sharp inhalations, “you did so clearly resist me. On one occasion in this very room.”

“Only with the greatest difficulty,” he murmured against her neck. “And as I recall, you were also resolved.”

“You are much mistaken!”

He righted up and looked at her, frowning. “Am I?”

“You were very polite in your refusals, which was most appreciated, for it saved me from deeper mortifications than I already felt. But Will, I had already made my opinion quite clear to you. And it was not on the side of abstention.”

His frown deepened. “You did?”

Sarah made a noise of disbelief. “I did speak of pleasures not yet taken, of exquisite defeat. What more temptation did I need provide?”

He scoffed. “Providing temptation is not the same as making one’s intentions known.”

“For a woman, it is. It is all we are allowed.”

“Allowed by whom ?”

She was caught off-guard by his question.

“Sarah, if I were to assume every time you were alluring was an invitation for me to lie with you…” He broke off, his expression of amusement suddenly replaced by alarm, as if he realized the danger of finishing that sentence. Shaking his head, he said instead, “How is a man to know when a woman is beguiling him from design and when she merely does so from her natural charms?”

She answered, uncertain, “Experience, I suppose.”

“The crucial element I am lacking.”

She frowned now, and was pensive.

Will smiled crookedly, and kissed her forehead. “You shall have to be my teacher, in this as in all things. I know myself to be in safe hands.” His lips found their way to her neck, and he whispered near her ear, “I await your instruction.”

Sarah took in a deep breath, his words and his proximity making her lightheaded. “You wish for me to induct you in the ways of love? I do confess, the thought is strangely thrilling. But it is also a great responsibility. Perhaps it is I who should be afraid of disappointing you.”

Will broke away only long enough to roll his eyes, saying, “That is not possible.”

He bent his head once more to kiss Sarah’s neck, but she caught his lips with her own as her hands came up to hold his jaw. If he was a novice here, it did not show. He responded tenderly, but when her lips parted, he did not hesitate to deepen the kiss.

Sarah pushed Will's coat off his shoulders and he shrugged it off the rest of the way. As soon as his hands were free, they came to her face, caressing her cheeks and hair and throat with long, elegant fingers.

Her fingers were busy too, and with deft movements they untied his cravat. It joined his coat on the floor. She brought her hands to his head for a moment to press him nearer and Will's breath quickened. Sarah placed her hands on his chest, holding them there to feel the rise and fall, delighting in his vitality and passion. She then ran the palm of one hand down the length of his waistcoat, all the way to where it ended and hit his breeches, and allowed the heel of her hand to drift lower than was necessary.

Will's lips and hands stilled. His tongue, which had been shyly exploring her mouth, now withdrew, and he gave off the impression he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Sarah smiled as she kissed his stunned mouth firmly and brought both hands back to the top of his waistcoat to undo the buttons there. As she slowly unfastened him from the confines of his vest, he came back to his senses, catching her mouth with his and pulling her closer, his arms enveloping her shoulders.

Soon the waistcoat too was undone, and it followed Will's coat off his shoulders and onto the floor.  
She pulled at his shirt where it tucked into his breeches at the hip. Will eagerly tugged it free and unbuttoned his collar before holding up his arms, helping Sarah push the garment off his now bare chest.

Sarah broke away. She could not help pausing to admire him, despite his shyness. Will had not the burly physique of a laborer, nor that of a pampered nobleman who spent his days indulging in idleness and rich food. His frame was that of a scholar, the muscles of his upper back rounded as if set that way from countless nights spent pouring over books, his pale skin ghostly in the candlelight, attesting to the infrequency of his venturing out into the sunshine. There was a kind of lanky grace about his person, from the narrow, sloped shoulders, to the lean, sinewy arms with overly elongated wrists and fingers. He was far too thin for the dictates of fashion, but Sarah thought him very beautiful anyway.

There was a sparse patterning of hair in the middle of his chest and around his nipples, and a fine line descended from his navel to where it disappeared beneath his trouser front. Sarah followed it with her eyes, and nearly reached out to trace the path with her fingertips before realizing how overwhelming that might prove to someone of Will’s inexperience.

Instead, her eyes were caught by the irregular star-shaped scar on his left arm, evidence of another’s superior skill with a pistol. Mr. Silvester, of all people! William’s advocate this day in court! This one jagged, shiny mark was all that remained of that foolish, barbarous duel, borne of Will’s mistaken notion that he was defending her honor. Sarah had been furious with him at the time, yet she couldn’t have conjured up that anger now if she'd tried. He had more than paid for that mistake, in injuries to his pride and flesh. And in truth, her anger had been too easily displaced by fear – and then overwhelmed by gratitude when he'd survived relatively unharmed.

She traced the scar with her fingers, recalling how she had been unable to hide from Arthur the panic she’d felt upon learning Will had been shot. That night she had gone to him, confessed her fear of his loss, and in one unguarded moment, kissed him for the first time. She had only meant to satisfy herself that he was well, and admonish him for his recklessness. But he had been, as always, so pleased at her visit, and so attentive. And when he laid a comforting hand on hers, and held it gently, another gesture of affection had seemed to follow naturally. It was not until Sarah noticed the heat behind the kiss and the racing of her heart, that she felt other things would also naturally follow unless halted forthwith. Which, thanks be to God, did save Mr. Southouse from bearing witness to that particular scene of iniquity.

Will watched her examine his wound, a smile playing on his lips.

“A shilling seems even less troublesome, considering how your husband could have chosen to demand a restoration of his honor.”

“If Arthur had challenged you, you would have refused,” Sarah insisted.

Will chuckled. “I have learned my lesson.”

“Does it still cause you pain?”

He took her hand away and kissed it. “Only the memory of my behavior,” he said. “And of your rightful reproach.”

Sarah smiled, swinging their joined hands. Her eyes cast down to the floor, lost in memory. Suddenly she pursed her lips and lifted her eyes to William's. He regarded her with bemusement and she arched her brow at him.

“What?” he said.

She shook her head, her eyes dancing with merriment.

“What?” he laughed uncomfortably. “Sarah?”

“Regard our two states of dress.” She inclined her head at his bare torso. “At the rate we are progressing, you will soon be as nude as Adam while I am still fit to stroll through the public gardens.”

“Oh,” said Will softly.

“Do you not wish to see more of me?”

The pink returned to his ears and spread across his cheeks.

Sarah silently admitted to herself that she enjoyed being able to affect him so. It had been quite some time since she had been able to make a man blush. And William blushed uncommonly pretty.

“I would,” he said, his voice low, “but I don't wish to take any unwanted liberties.”

Sarah fought the urge to sigh in frustration at him. So eager to do everything correctly that he did not trust his own desires. So much a gentleman that he worried about “taking liberties” with a woman positively desperate to be ravished by him.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly and slowly lifted one leg to rest upon William's lap. Even more slowly, she raised the hem of her skirt and petticoats, revealing her calf inch by inch, until the hem was just above the knee.

Will swallowed as he watched her, but then grinned like he'd been given a gift to unwrap. He immediately set to work on her garter. The ribbon was soon untied by his nimble fingers and he rolled the silk stocking down her leg, caressing her as he went. The stocking off and tossed to the floor, he reveled in her soft skin, running his hands over and over, squeezing her calf. Wordlessly, he bent down and kissed her knee and exposed thigh. Surprised at his own daring, he glanced up. Sarah smiled and reached down to stroke his jaw and run a finger over his bottom lip. Kissing the finger as it passed, he grinned wickedly and lifted her other leg to his lap, and Sarah fell back on her elbows. Will repeated the ministrations on this leg that he had bestowed on its twin. He nuzzled her knee, raising gooseflesh, and softly kissed the underside as Sarah lifted her leg. She hooked her bare foot around the back of his head and cleared her throat, bringing his attention to the rest of her, which lay in semi-repose upon the bed.

He took the hint immediately and scooted closer, drawing down to kiss her deeply.

Sarah lay back, freeing her hands, allowing them to roam the contours of his chest, to feel the muscles of his arms as he held himself over her. She pulled at his shoulders, urging him closer, encouraging him to rest his weight on her fully.

He only half complied, dropping to his elbows, shifting his weight so that his hips rested next to hers on the bed.

The man was impossible.

Will kissed her passionately, with the ardor she'd come to expect. It was bliss just to be kissed like that. But Sarah wanted more, and from the bulge she'd seen in his trousers, she suspected he did too. So she took hold of William's hand and placed it, quite deliberately, on her breast.

It was as if he'd just been awaiting permission. Eagerly, Will caressed each of her breasts in turn, ran the backs of his hands down her neck to the swell of her cleavage, and even tucked his fingers into her gown to stroke the supple skin there. His lips left hers to kiss the skin of her throat, her chest, and the top of each breast. Sarah reached out to cradle his head in her hands and kissed his soft hair. She shivered as his lips and fingertips ghosted over her skin and then flushed as he nuzzled and kissed, his tongue darting out to taste her.

Her breath quickened, and her hands reached out aimlessly, tangling in his hair. She enjoyed his attentions, but considered how much more satisfaction could be found without all the clothing in the way. Gently rolling him off of her, she scooted out of bed. He looked all at once confused, disappointed and bereft.

Sarah threw him a look of pity and held out one hand to him, the other unclasping one of the hooks that held her gown in place.

Relief flooded Will's features. Springing out of bed, he came over to help her. It was fiddly, delicate work, and his brow furrowed in concentration.

Sarah was not so engrossed in her state of dress. Distraction in the form of his naked torso and straining member loomed into her view. Although he stood a respectful distance away, their relative heights made the bulge of his cock even more apparent through his trouser front.

She resisted the urge to reach out and stroke him through his clothing, or to open the front flap of his breeches, which was sure to divert him from the very important task with which he now occupied himself. Instead, she laid her hand quite gently on his belly and felt his abdominal muscles quiver.

He fumbled with one of the hooks.

She could not entirely resist temptation, and ran two fingers down the delicious V-shaped indentation between his hips, to where it disappeared into his waistband and began to converge .

Will gasped, his belly muscles going concave. He folded, bringing his forehead down to rest on hers, his hands abandoning the clasps and catching her fingers. He let out a shaky chuckle then lifted his head to regard her features. Sarah attempted nonchalance, but the wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth gave her away. Will lifted an eyebrow at her, smiling warmly. He kissed her cheek and then whispered in her ear, "If you persist in teasing me thus, we shall never have you out of these clothes."

She pursed her lips, attempting still to suppress a grin. "I am chastened. Shall you trust me again?"

He righted up, and was strangely pensive for a moment, regarding her. Then he bent down and kissed her forehead lightly, releasing her fingers as his arms came down to envelop her. His answer was not in the same tone. There was no teasing lightness. His words were thick and heavy.

“I trust you implicitly.”

Will sighed then, resting his lips at her temple.

Sarah felt tears stinging her eyes. She had not realized until that moment what a precious thing trust was. That her own husband should not trust her, despite her faithfulness, that Arthur should himself prove unworthy of the trust and loyalty she'd shown him: these facts had lately become the heavy and tattered mantle she’d been obliged to shoulder. Even before separation, their marriage had been marred by suspicion. The guilt Sarah carried over her feelings for Will and the single kiss they'd shared had eaten away at the righteous anger she should have felt at Arthur's accusations. In truth, a part of her felt she'd deserved it. That she was not worthy of his trust. That it was only natural for him to question every accidental encounter, or to have her followed by servants. Her feelings of her own worthlessness, unexamined in the light of day, had become like a poison to her soul.

But William Garrow had seen it clear. He had trusted her when she did not trust herself. He had laid his life, his future, in her hands. He was willing to sacrifice himself to debtor’s prison on the altar of motherly love. But she had not betrayed him to save her marriage, and she would not, could not, even to see her precious child.

Was it any wonder that as Will held her tightly against his warm chest, Sarah felt more certain of his love and trust than anything else in life? There was no doubt. It was as unswerving and unchanging as a force of nature.

This realization was following by another: she reciprocated his sentiment, completely and without hesitation. True, it had not always been so. While she’d believed him capable of working miracles in court, she’d not always seen the full merit of his heart. Since their first acquaintance, she’d always had total faith in the barrister. Yet she could not extend such feelings to the man, however much she loved him. He was too brash, too given to heedless acts in the name of gallantry. When before he did entreat her to leave her husband, she believed it more of his misaimed heroism, that his affections could not possibly survive the scandal that would surely follow.

But the machinations of the powerful and the censure of polite society had only served to make a crucible. Every crack in Sarah’s resolve had been met by the strength of his affections. Every occasion William had had reason to doubt or despair, he’d been bolstered by her love. They were like two metals, forged together by heat and pressure. Now they were irrevocably alloyed. They’d become one steel blade, stronger together than they had been apart, more resistant and durable, and far more dangerous to those who dared cross them henceforth.

It would not be easy, that much was certain. But Sarah knew that she would rather face the disapproval of the whole world with William Garrow by her side than to live in its sanction without him.

Wrapped in Will’s warm embrace, as his breath fluttered a lock of her hair and his fingertips drifted across the nape of her neck, Sarah felt then as close to him as it was possible for two souls to be to one another.

Well, almost as close. There remained one intimacy they still did not know.

Hastily, Sarah disengaged from him, and unhooked the remaining clasps attaching the bodice to her gown. She shrugged off the sleeves and the dress fell to her feet. Will assisted her as she stepped out of it, and she threw herself back into his embrace, kissing his chest and neck until he eagerly drew her closer, cupping her chin in his hand and covering her mouth with his.

While his hands roamed the contours of her back, tangled themselves in her hair, hers were at work again, untying the ribbons of her upper petticoat. Her pockets and bustle soon followed.

Will's hair was coming away from his queue in strands, and Sarah reached up to run her fingers through it. It was so lovely to be able to stroke a man's head and not encounter sticky pomade. Wigs had their uses, to be sure, but there was something so alluring about a man who wore his own hair long. Though, Sarah acknowledged, she did think he cut a fine figure in his barrister wig and garb. How many times had she watched him bravely fighting for justice at the Old Bailey, and felt her passions raised over more than his stirring defense of a prisoner and the outcome of the trial?

William brought her out of her reverie with a shock as his hands drifted lower and firmly grasped her backside. She felt a saucy smile through their kiss.

In response, Sarah raised herself up on her toes and ground her pelvis into his.

Will groaned, instinctively pulling her even closer, meeting her hips with an involuntary jerk of his own. She felt his cock give an almighty throb and heat began pooling low in her belly as she grew wet with desire.

Strictly speaking, divesting themselves of all clothing was not in the least necessary, and as their ardor continued to rise, Sarah began to think it might not even be possible. She could unbutton his breeches and lift her petticoat, and the act could be accomplished immediately. But she wanted their first coupling to be everything they'd hoped. Especially as Will might never have seen a naked woman before. Not like this.

Placing one hand on his chest, she gently separated from their embrace. His blue eyes were dark under heavy lids. He seemed quite unwilling to part from her.

The huskiness of her own voice took Sarah by surprise.

"First things first, Mr. Garrow," she said as she turned around, glancing at him over her shoulder.

Will was bewildered for a moment, but quickly came over to her and laid his hands on her shoulders. His breath was hot on her skin as he bent down, his fingers playing soft on the back of her neck. He turned his face to her hair, and he inhaled deeply, then hungrily kissed her mouth, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

His hair fell out of his queue as they kissed, tickling her shoulders and breasts. Sarah reached up to cup his cheek, bringing him closer.

They broke apart, their breath still hot and mingling. Will's gaze could have melted ice as he reluctantly turned his attention to the lacings of her stays.

Slowly, excruciatingly, painstakingly, William untied and unlaced her from her confines. Sarah's impatience grew with each deliberate move of his fingers. While he occupied himself, she could only wait. Her arms longed to embrace him; her fingers itched to stroke him. She felt her breath come harder and faster as her passions were denied.

"Will," she implored.

His hands continued to make their way down her back, but the speed with which they did so increased in response to her reaction.

Finally she felt herself loosened, enough so that she could push the stays over her hips and onto the carpet. She turned around to face him once more, untying her under petticoats so that, they too, fell to the floor.

Now the only thing separating Sarah's skin from William's gaze was a thin white shift.

He looked her up and down, his hands making useless movements at his sides, until Sarah began to feel quite self-conscious. She searched his gaze, bit her lip and fiddled with the drawstring at the yoke of the shift as he beheld and marveled. Will’s hesitating hands found rest on her shoulders. He was shaking again; though the flush of his skin made it clear this was certainly not from cold. He ducked his head to lose himself in her kiss, but Sarah placed a hand on his chest, steering him back towards the bed.

"Your stockings," she said.

He glanced down as she pushed him gently to sit, and before she could assist, he was wrenching off his stockings and flinging them away. Once more he moved forward to kiss her, and she leaned over to meet his lips as his hands framed her face.

Sarah's hands moved to his knee and he jumped, but did not break the kiss. Unbuttoning the legs of his breeches, she slipped the loose garters down Will's slender legs. Most men with such gangling calves would have worn sandbags to pad them out, but Sarah had always found William's legs to be one of his most attractive features.

At court today, entering to a chorus of jeers, he'd been strikingly long and lean, tall and upright. His pigtail brushed and coiled just so, his slender calves carrying him as he strode confidently into the fray - as Will had said, there had been no adultery. But, as Sarah had watched him from the public gallery, she'd wondered why in Heaven's name not.

The answer was simple, though she had not known at the time. It was easier for Will to abstain, because, unlike her, he was unfamiliar with the pleasure of which he was depriving himself.

Was. Would not be unfamiliar for much longer. Sarah was resolved of that.

She laid a hand on William's shoulder, and squeezed, attempting to communicate all her love and trust through the simple gesture. Her other hand came in between their bodies and found the fly of his breeches.

His lips stilled again, his jaw open, but she continued kissing him, rubbing his shoulder with one hand as she unbuttoned him with the other.

Sarah moved on to the two buttons holding the flap of his breeches closed. The material was straining, and she pushed it with the back of her hand to get the slack necessary to undo the tight button.

Will inhaled sharply and reached up to clutch her arms.

It was done. The last button holding him in had been unfastened. Sarah felt him spring out, and Will shifted on the bed as the clothing slid down and fell away from his body.

His hands were suddenly grasping at her shift, insistent, but awaiting her signal.

Reading his hesitation, Sarah raised her arms, and he lifted the airy garment over her head in one deft motion. As he did so, he stood up, the breeches falling off his legs the rest of the way. He folded his hands shyly in front of his not so shy member.

Sarah found herself mirroring Will's shyness, standing with her knees together and her arms against her chest, fiddling with a loose lock of her hair. It suddenly occurred to her that not only was this her first time being seen naked by Will, but this was the first time being seen by any man since before Samuel.

After she'd become pregnant, Arthur had been conspicuous by his absence as a nighttime visitor to her room. When she'd attempted to inspire his passion, first by subtle hints, then by outright seduction, he'd refused, citing his concerns about the safety of the child. She'd spent most of her pregnancy feeling undesirable, sexually thwarted, and guilty for recurring dreams where it was not her husband, but William Garrow, who came in the night to satisfy her desire. After Samuel was born, Arthur had initially been much more attentive, but at first it had been too soon, then he'd been always at some business in town, then, not long after, paranoia had gripped his fancy. The few times Sarah's husband had taken her after the birth of their son had been perfunctory, fully clothed affairs.

The toll pregnancy and childbirth had taken on her body, the long neglect of her unfaithful husband, and the intensity of Will's gaze made Sarah feel as unsure and self-conscious as she had long ago on her wedding night, when she had been the timid virgin.

She forced herself to face William's appraising eyes, wondering if he could be pleased with anything he saw, or if his countenance would betray how disappointed he was in her flaws. But it was not appraisal she saw there at all. He was lost – lost in admiration, lost in awe. He was a man who looked utterly overcome.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, laughing softly as she said, “You must see now why it is I who should be concerned with not meeting expectations. I am gratified indeed that you have little basis for comparison.”

Will's reaction to that was nothing like she'd expected. He blinked rapidly several times, as if she'd slapped him across the face. Sarah's relief fled and was replaced by uncertainty. Had he taken it as a slight on his inexperience? Was his infamous pride wounded?

He took a step towards her and slowly grasped her shoulders, frowning. As his hands moved over the skin of her bare arms, he shook his head and attempted to formulate what he wanted to say.

“I wish,” he began softly, “Sarah, I wish you could see how you appear in my eyes. How lovely – how magnificent – you are.”

His gaze followed the progress of his fingertips as they ran down her arms and interlaced themselves in her fingers.

“Since the time of our first meeting, you have been my patron when others thought me worthless. You were my conscience when I lost sight of the truth. My fountain of fortitude when I had none of my own. And throughout, my true friend,” he squeezed her hands for emphasis. “The quickness of your mind, your true and righteous heart…and that iron will that did save me in more ways and more times than I can recall...”

He paused, trying to remain composed.

“This bodily form,” he said, swallowing hard and chuckling, “is yet one more facet of your manifold perfection.”

Sarah felt herself blush now. She responded, rather more breathy than she wished.

“It seems that the law is not the only subject on which you can deliver pretty speeches.”

“I think you'll find me quite eager to speak at length about that which raises my passions.”

Sarah suspected he did not intend the double entendre, given how sincere he appeared. “Certainly. And William Garrow is more than equal to the task,” she replied.

“There are some subjects to which my words cannot do justice.”

“Indeed?” said Sarah slyly, releasing his hands and backing away. She came to rest languidly on the bed. “Then perhaps we could engage in conversation on the subject.”

Will's eyes widened.

She continued, her voice husky, “If words do not suffice, we could discover other means of communicating your passion.”

Instantly William was on the bed, his arms around Sarah, and his lips on hers. His breath came hot and heavy as he kissed her, their tongues encircling, colliding with each other.

Sarah relished the heat radiating from William's body, the soft yet firm lines of his arms and back and chest, the feel of his bare skin on every inch of hers. It took some self-control for her to not take him inside her that very instant.

Will's hands roamed the curves of her body, with restraint as first, then, as she arched her breast into his palm as it passed over, with more zeal. His breathing became more ragged, and he dragged his lips from her mouth to her neck and throat.

Sarah peppered his face with small kisses, running her hands rhythmically up and down his back. The opportunity presenting itself, she nipped at his ear, sucking the lobe as his breath hitched and a tiny moan escaped his throat.

Will's lips followed where his hands had gone, lightly kissing her chest, the swell of her breasts and her belly, pausing from time to time to steal gazes at her naked form.

Sarah hummed in pleasure at his caresses. She reached forward and ran her forefingers over his hardening nipples. He mirrored her actions, kneading the sensitive skin until it puckered.

One of Will's hands drifted down from her breast to her hip, running a thumb across her belly. She shivered. Slowly and deliberately, his hand moved lower and lower, until it dipped between her legs.

She gasped.

As soon as the noise escaped her lips, Sarah realized she should have expected it – he had been so good as to foreshadow his actions quite deliberately – but it nonetheless took her by surprise to feel William's fingers touching her so intimately.

At her sound, he removed his hand and looked down at her guiltily.

“Is it...?” he began.

Sarah smiled, nodding encouragingly. She kissed him again, letting her tongue slide across his lips before pulling away.

He smiled back at her and sheepishly glanced down the length of her body before kissing her once more.

Even more slowly this time, Will brought his hand down her belly, stroking her thighs, pattering his fingers over her hips, closer and closer.

Sarah squeezed her arm between their two bodies and did the same to him, provoking a low sound in Will's throat. As if to show him how it was done, Sarah reached out and lightly caressed his tumescent cock, then grasped and stroked his full length.

Will's lips wrenched from hers as he cried out, pulling her hand away as he panted.

For a moment there was only the sound of his haggard breathing and their hearts pounding. Finally, he laughed breathlessly, and then spoke.

“Please,” he said, his voice shaky. “Do not think me...ungrateful. But I – I am too...” He cast around for the right words. “I will not be able to yield.”

Sarah pulled at his hips, attempting to draw him to her.

“Then don't.”

Will let out another shaky breath, sounding both amused and exasperated. “Madam, you do not make this easy.”

Sarah giggled. “On the contrary, sir. I believe I am making this very easy.”

He brought his forehead to rest on hers.

“Sarah, I wish to please you. I need to.”

“Oh, Will,” she said, stroking his cheek. “You do. You do please me.”

“But for that ultimate satisfaction – I fear you have more confidence in my performance than may be merited by the circumstances.”

She looked away, realizing what he meant. Shaking her head, unable to meet eyes, she spoke to his chin.  
“You need not be so concerned with –”

“Please,” he cut in. “Please, I need to be certain of it.”

Sarah glanced up. There was such a sincere, determined look in his eyes that she didn't have the heart to argue with him. She didn't know what she would say if she had. Although her only personal experience of intimate male behavior was Arthur, Sarah was quite sure it was typical. Female pleasure was seen as secondary – when it did occur, it was an unintended but happy consequence of the fulfillment of male lust. Certainly not an end in and of itself. Why this was so important to William, she was not sure. But, considered Sarah sanguinely, it would be churlish to complain.

Will brought her out of her reverie by kissing her lips, whisper soft. His hand drifted to her belly, stroking and raising gooseflesh. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and brought her hands up to the sides of his face.

They locked eyes for the barest of moments and Will swallowed hard. His hand journeyed lower and lower, until he splayed his fingers along each inner thigh in turn, and then gently cupped her quim.

They both sighed together, and Will kissed Sarah's mouth wantonly as he rubbed her. She was almost embarrassed by how wet she was. Will, on the other hand, seemed quite enthusiastic about the evidence of her lust, as the quickening of his breath and his ministrations showed.

The urge to reciprocate was strong. Sarah's hands flitted from Will’s face to his shoulders to his hips, and then back to massage his shoulders when his hips proved too tempting.

William, meanwhile, was providing plenty of material to distract her, and proving a quick study. He began softly at first, tentatively exploring her folds in a way that made her involuntarily arch. He was noting her reaction too, as a quickening of her breath or a subtle noise or gesture would be rewarded with another light stroke there.

He began to vary his approach, changing the angle and strength of his touch. He pressed firmly against her, his fingers running along Sarah's slick wetness, catching the sensitive nub in between.

Sarah felt a jolt there, and a pleasant sensation coursed through her like the rumble of thunder. Her breath was coming too fast now to properly kiss Will, and she pulled away, panting.

Undaunted, he kissed her cheeks and neck and continued to press and rub her as she grasped and pulled on his shoulders.

As he played with her, he ran one finger to her entrance, skirted along the edges of it and then flattened his hand to stroke her wet slit once more. He repeated this ritual twice more, prompting a beseeching noise from Sarah as she lifted her hips to him. Finally he dipped one long, elegant finger inside her, and it was Will's turn to make an utterance of supplication.

Sarah knew she was close. The excitement and newness of William and their long-denied desire had set the bar very low to begin with, but his noises at the pleasure he was bringing her made it altogether impossible to resist. And she had never been played with like this before. Never like this – lavished with touches and caresses that were solely for her benefit and pleasure.

Will's finger began a slow rhythm, keeping time with his thumb. It drifted through the inner folds of her quim and then across the sensitive nub nestled there.

Sarah's hands stilled on Will's back.

William grew faster; his penetrating finger angled slightly, his thumb insistent.

She grabbed fistfuls of the bedclothes and her breath ceased.

Faster still, and the heel of Will's hand came to press on her pubic bone as his thumb and forefinger teased and pressed.

Sarah felt her vision dim as William pushed her higher, higher still, towards the precipice.

With his hand he rocked into her again and again. Once, twice, thrice –

And suddenly she was flying, nothing but a tunnel with stars at the end before her eyes. She threw a hand in front of her mouth as she rode the crashing waves of pleasure. She let out the first shaky breath and it came with a cry of ecstasy. Her inner walls convulsed over and over, squeezing Will's finger. The second exhalation she stifled with her hand, but with the third, she decided the best way to muffle her cries was in Will's mouth.

He reciprocated, ardently, winded. He withdrew his hand and they exchanged wet kisses, punctuated by Sarah's panting breath and their sighs of pleasure. William was nearly as vocal as she, an unmistakably keening, yearning quality to his moans.

As Sarah's breath returned, though still riding out the last spasms of her completion and cosseted in the haze of well-being that it brought, she became sensible enough to bring her focus to Will. His chest was heaving as he watched her through heavy lidded eyes. It was clear he was burning up with desire, with unmet need.

“Was it,” he said, panting. “Was it acceptable?”

If Sarah had the breath for it, she would have laughed. Instead, she placed a hand on each of his ears and pulled, kissing him deeply. Her tongue lapped at his, inviting, pulling it inside her mouth. When he broke away, beaming, pride and lust were battling for supremacy in his features.

“Will,” Sarah said.

“Yes?” he breathed.

“Come here,” she said, laying back and pulling him insistently towards her.

It was a command he was only too eager to oblige, and though the trembling in his hands hadn't ceased, he quickly positioned himself above her, his loose hair like a curtain falling around his face. Shyly, he took the opportunity to gaze down at her body once more.

There would be time enough for that later, Sarah thought, as she reached between them and gently grasped his cock. His eyes fluttered closed and his lips formed strange syllables as she stroked him. Then, with her other hand applying light pressure on his hip, she guided Will to her entrance, and then pulled him inside her body. He inhaled sharply as he sunk into her, his head tipping back in ecstasy.

“Oh, William,” Sarah whispered, touching his cheek.

He opened his eyes. They were dark, unfocused. As he gazed down at her, she saw that he shook with the effort of holding himself still. He did not speak, but he did not need to. Sarah knew what he felt at that moment, for she felt it too. She shifted, encouraging him to chase his own pleasure. His eyes closed once more as he dropped down to his elbows, clasped her tightly, and rested his face in her shoulder.

He began to move, his hips setting an agonizingly slow and shallow rhythm. Sarah considered how it was a very good thing she'd been fulfilled first. If not, she would've wished to meet his hips with hers, deepening and intensifying their shared pleasure. And Will’s would’ve consequently been over before it began. The gentle hum of her satisfaction also left her free of distraction, able to savor the feeling of Will cradled in her arms and between her thighs, and the tiny sounds escaping his throat as he moved within her.

After a few truly heroic minutes, Will paused, attempting to stave off the inevitable. But he could not resist the urge to begin again when Sarah’s hands drifted down to his backside and caressed him appreciatively.

He began to quicken his pace, his thrusts faster, burying himself deeper. His breathing grew more vocal too; his moans not even hushed when he gritted his teeth or bit his lower lip.

Will’s hands on Sarah’s shoulders began to make purposeless little circles, and he whimpered as his hips began to move more erratically.

“Sar—oh God,” he muttered.

Then the muscles in Will’s back began to spasm, which spread until his whole body was quivering.

Sarah held him fast, clutching at his trembling shoulders as he released. Her hands stroked the skin of his back and arms, and she raised gooseflesh with the slightest touch. His movements slowed, and then stopped, as the urgency abated. Sarah felt him twitch inside her as his spending emitted in short pulses.

Before he even had a chance to come down from the heights of his completion, Will turned his face to Sarah’s neck and began kissing every inch of her skin he could reach in between shaky breaths. He did not speak, but there was such an expression of gratitude, of affection and joy in this display, that it said more to her than words could.

As his breath became steadier, Sarah felt a grin against her neck. It mirrored the one on her own countenance.

“Ooh,” Will sighed, and then laughed breathlessly as he lifted his head from where it rested to peer into her face. He smiled beatifically down at her, and then spent a solid minute resting on his elbows and contemplating Sarah’s appearance with the most blissful expression she’d ever seen. He watched with serene fascination as his fingers smoothed her hair and lingered lightly on her cheek, his thumb drifting over her smiling lips.

Sarah matched him for contentment, and allowed silence its lease as they both basked in each other’s warmth and affection.

“Well,” she said finally. “You are instructed.”

He let out a noise of mirth and buried his face in the curve of her neck, tickling her skin with his breath, before righting up again. “And what is your assessment? Did I comport myself satisfactorily?”

She laughed, a sound that was giddy to her own ears. “Ah…I am certain you know very well.”

Will did not deny this, but her assurance nonetheless made him look smug for a moment. Sarah shifted beneath him, and he lifted himself up, appearing anxious.

“Forgive me, I am crushing you.”

“No— ” Sarah began.

But he had already withdrawn. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, gathering her in his arms and tucking her head under his chin.

“There is no danger of that,” she continued, settling comfortably in the hollow of his shoulder, and gently pinched his slender hip as proof.

He feigned astonishment. “You mean to tell me you do not find me a positively Herculean specimen of masculinity?”

Sarah laughed quite a bit louder than she meant to, and there was a tinge of sincerity in what he said next.

“I see how these things are. Now that you have taken my virtue, I have lost my allure.”

“Not at all, I assure you,” she said, pressing her lips to his chin and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I would not have you other than as you are. And in fact, I do find myself more intrigued than ever.”

“Truly?”

“For a beginner, you did seem…well prepared.”

His proud smile returned.

“Where did you happen to learn the…facts and theories, did you call them?” Sarah asked.

Will blushed. “Here and there. A variety of sources,” he demurred.

“Oh, a variety is it? Will you not name one?”

Will paused, and hid his face behind her hair. “I did, at one time happen upon a volume entitled ‘Aristotle’s Masterpiece.’ It was many years ago – ”

He was interrupted by Sarah giggling.

“—and I think I can be forgiven for reading it,” he continued with some animation, “as I was too young to know what it was, and the boy who showed it me did give me assurances that it was the greatest thing ever written by that eminent Greek philosopher.”

“And when did you discover it was not in fact written by Aristotle at all?”

“When I brought it to the notice of my father, and asked if he might clarify some part or other.”

She gasped. “Oh, Will! Was he very angry?”

“No,” William said, “Strange enough he did seem amused, though he confiscated the book of course, and disciplined the pupil who had brought such ‘heinous obscenity’ into the school. He did also entreat me not to mention the incident to my mother, which I would never have dreamt of doing. Although I do recall my brother Joseph was furious with me for not showing it to him. He was fourteen or fifteen at the time, of an age where young men value such a thing more than gold.”

Sarah chuckled, and was satisfied with this answer until another thought occurred.

“You remembered its contents from childhood alone? It surely seems to have made a lasting impression on you.”

“Ah. Yes. Well, it must’ve been the subject of some theological enquiry,” Will said somewhat doubtfully, “because I did find it amongst my father’s books after he died.”

“And do you still have this volume in your possession?”

There was a pause.

“I may.”

Sarah made a very unladylike sound, which she stifled in her hand as Will continued with feigned petulance, “It is necessary, for a barrister such as myself to have a working knowledge of…anatomy and physiology, so that I may better understand the charges my clients face in certain cases.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Sarah said indulgently.

Will sighed loudly and gave her a squeeze. After a few moments, he suddenly craned his neck to look at her. She lifted her head in surprise.

“What is it?”

“A question comes to my mind,” Will said, leaning back. “You do seem very well acquainted with this particular book. I put it to you, that if you have not perused it yourself, its full description has been related to you in some other way prior to this conversation.”

As he looked at Sarah expectantly, a smile spread slowly across her face. She schooled her features into an expression of puzzlement, and then pillowed her head upon his chest once more, saying, “I have no idea what you mean.”

“No?” he laughed.

“No, my dear Mr. Garrow, and I do wonder at your insinuation!”

“Ah. Forgive me, madam, I was merely being thorough. I feared I might be dealing with a less than forthcoming witness.” He continued, his voice soft, “I believe she may think my wits too dulled by my overpowering love for her to know when she is being evasive.”

It was Sarah’s turn to sigh, though she found it difficult to affect annoyance after this speech. “Must you always liken events to a courtroom trial?”

“Does not the inquiring mind of a barrister fit itself well to the student learner, as I am here?”

“Not the way you practice the law. Unless your aim be to devastate me as you have done to so many a prosecutrix.”

“It would grieve me exceedingly to think I had done so,” he said, running his hands soothingly over her bare arms. “But unlike in law, in this case we would not work against one another, but for the benefit of us both. My…advancement would serve only to gratify both parties. How else am I to learn, if not by questioning my teacher? Am I to copy lines?”

“No, I think not,” she laughed.

“Then what do you propose?”

Sarah pressed herself from her resting place and sat upon her knees, gazing down at her beloved’s form. She regarded him for a moment, contemplating his question. Then, placing one hand upon his chest, she straddled him.

Will watched in amazement as she drew near, covering his body with her own, skin upon skin, until her lips were a whisper breadth from his ear.

“You shall simply have to practice.”


End file.
